The Biggest Camel: Klifa Recruits Huppert to Spoof the Bettencourt Affair
Thierry Klifa, who continues to work some of the most notable grand dames of...
Hazy Shade of Winter: Honore Deals with a Death in the Family in Sincere Coming-of-Age
Christophe Honoré has built an intricate filmography on the backs...
She’s Pure as New York Snow: Bourgeois-Tacquet Charms in Effortless, Effective Comedy
With her unexpectedly charming debut, Anaïs in Love, director Charline Bourgeois-Tacquet presents the...
A Room with a Screw: Honoré Waxes Playful on Marital Discord
The flexibility (or lack thereof) of fidelity in heteronormative relationships is at the center...
The thrill of meeting Marjane Satrapi reminded me of being 6 years old at Disney Land when I met the living, breathing Cinderella. Except Cinderella was an actress with a blond wig and Marjane is the real woman behind her autobiographical graphic novel, turned movie, “Persepolis”. The distinctive mole on her nose and her dark sultry eyes rose off the page and appeared in front of me, smoking and speaking with a French accent.